Crowley4King 5ever
by Assbutts-of-67
Summary: When Crowley's supporters are being killed off, he wishes to enlist the help of the Winchesters- but is the prime suspect really the culprit? Or maybe, is there yet another angel problem for the Winchesters. (Set between 9.11 First Born and 9.16 Blade Runners)


Well, here's another fic. Remember that this is set between 9.11 First Born and 9.16 Blade Runners. I guess if you're reading this you must have shown some interest in this fic so I guess I'll start now...

Dean drove the impala back to the bunker, he and Sam had just finished a case in Glenwood Springs, Colorado. He turned to see his younger brother, sleeping peacefully against the window. He fixated his drowsy eyes back on the road and stared blankly at the road ahead, occasionally peering over at Sam, who was lost in the tranquility of his dreams. Being the authority figure, Dean had a habit of watching Sam, it was just instinctual.

A few hours later, they pulled up at the bunker, Sam was half-awake now and sat up in the passenger seat, he and Dean normally had their emotional conversations and heart-felt arguments in the front of the impala, but they had nothing really to talk about. They clambered out of the Chevy and slammed the doors shut. Sam pulled out his phone and checked the time "4:12am", he sighed as he stumbled up to the big, metal doors and twistd the key in the lock.

"Hello, Sam... Hello, Dean" Cas greeted

"Urghh" Dean groaned as he shuffled down the stairs and off to his room

"Hey Cas" Sam muttered as he walked over to the table where Cas was sat and proceeded to pull up 4 chairs: one to sit on and 3 to rest his legs on.

"What's wrong with Dean?" Cas asked

"Oh nothing," Sam replied "we had trouble with a nest of vamps in Colorado, Dean had to call in a couple of old friends to get the job done but we were alright... normally when we have to call up a friend we're in over our heads but we got 'em good"

"Well I'm gonna go-" Cas seemed to melt away along with the rest of the room until suddenly, Sam opened his eyes to see Dean with tears flooding from his eyes, "SAMMY!" he yelled "SAMMY!" he repeated.

In the corner of his eye, Sam noticed a Djinn laying dead on the floor with a silver knife in it's heart which Sam could only assume was drenched in lamb's blood.

"We gotta get you outta here Sammy" Dean said hastily as he threw his brother's arm over his shoulder and carried him limply to the impala. Sam lay in the passenger seat of the car, his head leaning restlessly against the window- he was out cold. Concerned and frightened, Dean looked over his shoulder repeatedly to check that his brother was okay, it was instinctual. Dean had been driving for an hour-and-a-half and just as they were on the outskirts of Lebanon, Dean pushed harder on the accelerator

"Everything's gonna be okay, Sammy" he was reasurring himself more than his brother, as they pulled up at the bunker, Dean carried his brother to the door and stumbled inside.

"CAS!" Dean cried out for help as he assisted his now semi-conscious brother down the stairs

"Dea-"

"CAS! Sammy needs help" Dean trembled "he's hurt bad, a Djinn got him good, five more minutes and he'd be dead"

"It's okay" Cas said as he rested his palm on Sam's shoulder and his injuries cleared up, "he should wake up in an hour, he was in a pretty bad state,"

"Good," Dean whispered to himself.

For the next hour, Dean sat alone, staring at Sam intently with a bottle of beer in his hand. He sat on a chair next to Sam's bed with his headphones in, hoping that his classic rock anthems might take his mind off Sammy for a second. But he couldn't, with all this angels and demons crap going on worse now than ever, he needed a little mental stability and thinking of Sammy gave him that. He remembered that time when Sam and he went to Heaven, and all the memories they recounted and tried to stop himself from crying when he remembered the time when he and Sammy celebrated the 4th of July alone and put on their own firework display. Sam slowly began to open his eyes as his face twitched,

"D-Dean" Sam croaked without moving

"Sammy!" Dean yelled when he saw his brother okay again

"What happened?" asked a bewildered Sam

"You walked right into the home of a Djinn... alone" Dean stressed, in some way resembling and mimicing the same concerned yet angry attitude that his dad displayed towards him.

"Crap..."

"Well... yeah... crap" Dean said in a more subtle tone which still kept its angry undertone. Sam chuckled and gestured for Dean to pass him the other beer on the counter which he knew was reserved for him.

Suddenly, Dean's phone started ringing, hepicked up a number he recognised all too well.

"What?!" he shouted down the phone,

"Well that's no way to talk to the king" said the sarcastic, english accent which made Dean's skin crawl

"Quit screwin' around, what do you want?"

"Can't I just call my favourite squirrel for a little chat?" Crowley giggled

"No, now cut the crap- what do you want?" Dean grunted

"Alright, I need you boys to help me with something,"

"And why the hell should we help you?" Dean asked as he put his phone on speaker for Sam to hear

"Because I'm the one who got rid of that little pest Gadreel."

Dean started "Well we're no-"

"What exactly do you want us to help you with... and why? You've got a whole army of demons backing you up." Sam interrupted,

"Well that's the bloody problem!" Crowley shouted down the phone "and I can take a good guess at which ginger bitch is behind it all"

"And why should we trust you? How do we know this isn't just a trap for you to promote yourself?" Dean groaned distrustingly

"Yeah, that'd sure look good on a campaign 'King of Hell, Killer of the Winchesters, Vote Crowley'" Sam chimed in

"How do you know abo-"

"Oh please, we know about you and Abaddon... you weren't very discreet and it doesn't take a genius to work that one out" said Dean "besides, you have your sources, we have ours."

"The reason you should trust me is because we all know I'm not stupid, and unlike Azazel, and Lilith, and Michael, and Lucifer, and Alistair, and Uriel, and Zachariah, and Raphael, and Eve, and Dick Roman, I'm the only game piece on the board who doesn't underestimate you two denim-wrapped nightmares!" (A/N stolen from 6.20 'The man who would be king' and changed slightly)

"He's got a point Dean, maybe we should trust him," said Sam

"Are you kidding me?" Dean was in complete shock "us... trust a demon... when has that ever gone right?"

"Well you heard him, he knows that we could kick his ass and he sounded like he really needs our help." Sam argued

"No," Dean said blankly "not a chance! We are not walking right into Crowley's trap, we've got enough on our hands with Metatron and just look at you, you were unconscious just two minutes ago because of a Djinn. There is not a chance in Hell that we're following up on this 'lead' that Crowley's given us! I mean Crowley, of all people... Crowley! He's been tortured, pushed around and left to rot by us for months and you think that he's just gonna let that go? The answer is no!"

Crowley sat staring at his phone, he could feel the rage burning up inside of him.

"Mr Crowley..." a young, blonde woman knocked on the door as she entered.

"What is it, Natasha?"

"Well... ermm... Mr Crowley..." she began meekly

"What is it Natasha?" Crowley asked, now more condescending

"A-a-another group of your followers have been found d-dead" she stuttered as she knew what was coming. Crowley stood up, pressed his head against the large glass window behind him, before turning around and swiping everything off the table, screaming in a fit of rage. Suddenly, he stopped.

"Find out where Abaddon is, and get me her head on a stick!"


End file.
